Major Disclaimer: I barely know how to raise a kid. We've only been doing this for 3 years, so I claim no expertise on this matter. I've just found that my expectations of myself and my aspirations for raising the perfect child are vastly different from reality and I am chronicling just that.
I will say, though, as a generalization, that parents, particularly mothers, have an idealistic view of how they want to raise their children. I am no different. For example, in a perfect world, Waverly and I would do a special, meaningful craft every day that would foster her creativity and teach her some concept that only 2nd graders should be capable of understanding. Every day would be straight out of a magazine: out house would be cookie cutter with my own artistic touch and we would have an extra room for Waverly to exercise all of her innate creativity without sacrificing our spotless white walls and carpet. Her art would be colorful and she would have come up with some hilarious and incredibly imaginative story behind it all.
Then there is reality: Waverly IS creative and we see her imagination more and more these days, but she only likes to color for about five minutes and often asks for ideas about what her friends can be doing instead of coming up with the scenario on her own. She's a realist. Oh, and most days, I'm too mentally and physically exhausted to drag our small box of crafts out of the closet and supervise the insanity that ensues, only to have to clean it all up and put it away when she's lost interest ten minutes later.
And that's just the fun stuff! When it comes to the hard stuff, like discipline and establishing healthy habits, the realism is light years from the idealism. Particularly in Africa.
Pre-Africa and pre-Waverly's ability to know her own mind, we were careful to not let her have sweets or drink too much juice or watch too much television. We tackled discipline with a pre-designed strategy and stuck to a strict routine (consistency is key!). And until Africa, we were very successful in our endeavors.
Then Africa happened. Well, moving around, then finally landing in Africa, happened. And most nights, we watch movies together during dinner because it breaks up the monotony of being just the three of us all.the.time. Waverly even watches a movie during breakfast, and sometimes lunch, because it gives Chandler and I an opportunity to just be in peace, even if we are each on our own electronic device. Most Sundays, along with Waverly's bag of snacks to keep her quiet during the service, we pack a sucker that she can have when the preacher gets up to preach. Oh buddy, that girl knows when the preacher stands up!
And then we have days like yesterday when Chandler and I are walking home from language school and we hear blood-curdling screams coming from the general vicinity of our house. They weren't "I'm hurt" screams, they were "I'm not getting my way" screams, so I started walking a bit faster, then ran from our gate to Waverly's room seeing her sprawled on her bedroom floor screaming at the top of her lungs while our nanny (poor Sayondra) just stared at her, looking completely frazzled. See, we're believers of disciplining in the moment, especially while Waverly is young and consequences have no impact way after the offense. And when we're the ones in charge, discipline comes swiftly, but when we're away and Waverly is in the care of our nanny who doesn't discipline her, our job is that much more challenging. Clarification: We absolutely do not fault Sayondra for not disciplining Waverly. We just come from two different places when it comes to discipline and, as a national working for a foreign family, she does not view it as her place to discipline our children. Totally understandable. However, it does make our job more difficult.
I had lots of ideals concerning life in Africa without a TV and cable, without a million things pulling us in a million directions, and with plenty of time to make our child into an outstanding citizen. The reality is, some days we do what we can to survive. I've heard that a four-year-old asks some ridiculous number of questions, something in the millions, maybe; well, our three-year-old asks maybe one less question than the average four-year-old and if she's not asking a questions, she's just talking. And sometimes, it's a relief to put on a movie (nevermind that she's memorized the character's 2-minute monologue) and not think for an hour. Sometimes, it's nice to let her finger paint without supervision, so I can wash dishes in peace and deal with the consequences later. And sometimes we give her a small piece of cake for snack after her nap, then another small piece of cake after dinner because we all just need a memory of home.
I think I realize more every day how much our lives have become a daily walk in faith. We've discovered dependance on the Lord that we didn't even know was necessary every single day. This parenting stuff is no different. I am assured that I will never have enough experience to write a book on how to raise a child. I don't think I will even have the competence to give adequate advice! I will forever be learning how to "train up [my] child in the way he [or she] should go."
